


When I'm fucked up, that's the real me

by assassi



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Buck has issues, Getting Together, M/M, Team as Family, Therapy, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:35:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28178484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/assassi/pseuds/assassi
Summary: Eddie had his secrets and so did Buck. And everyone coped differently.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 184





	When I'm fucked up, that's the real me

**Author's Note:**

> I started this months ago then got stuck and today I finished it in a rush of muse. I hope you like it, tell me if you do or anything sounds off.  
> Title is from The Hills by The Weeknd, THE inspiration I needed.

_“Chris has nightmares again? Why did I not know about that?!”, Buck exclaimed, voice suddenly loud._

_“You weren’t there”, Eddie hissed._

That had been weeks ago. It still haunted his dreams until he woke up in a cold sweat. It was still there in Eddie’s eyes each and every day, the hurt, and anger, and betrayal. It was, in short, what the whole 118th felt since he had gotten back.

He’d apologized. Time and time again. But in end of the day, it was just words.

He wasn’t surprised by the cold shoulder. He expected it actually, after all the shit he’d put them through with that lawsuit. He couldn’t expect a warm welcome. He didn’t imagine things would be just like before; even he wasn’t that naïve and no matter what they thought of him, he wasn’t stupid. He knew every friendship he’d ever build here had suffered. And he knew he’d have to give it some time and work hard to repair the cracks.

So he fought with his own pain and his own demons and he did his job. After all, that’s what he’d fought so hard to get back to, right? Well… that and the only real family except for Maddie that he’d ever had. Even if they didn’t want him anymore.

He worked diligently, accomplishing every shitty little task without complaint. Cleaning the toilets, scrubbing the fire trucks, you name it. It was bound to happen, and really, someone had to do all that. It wasn’t like he had anything else to do while on a shift with people who didn’t want to talk to him right now. They weren’t even mean. Just… distanced. Buck got that. He didn’t blame them. If given a chance, he’d find a way back to them. He’d earn their trust again. He knew a simple “sorry” wouldn’t do the trick, no matter how much he said it.

So he kept his head down and weathered the storm. Quietly and proudly, no matter how much it hurt. He had found ways to deal with that too. He’d had to.

* * *

Eddie had his secrets and so did Buck. And everyone coped differently.

“50 bucks on Blondie!”, someone in the crowd yelled.

“Make it 100!”

“200 on Sommers!”

Buck sat behind the wheel and buckled up.

* * *

Eddie was very careful lately to never change in front of them, always keeping a layer of clothes covering what was obviously a very painful bruising judging by the way he carried himself and the way he winced when he thought no one was looking. But someone always did.

Buck didn’t need to see Eddie’s tan skin, splattered in purple, yellow and red. He knew his friend well enough to know his tells, when he was in pain and trying to hide it. He also knew it because he had a secret of his own, one maybe even close enough to Eddie’s. He had his own marks, not so many and not so obvious that he had to hide them. Or so he thought.

Until one day while changing into his uniform Buck caught Chim’s eyes glued to his chest where an angry red line from the seatbelt crossed his pecs and abs. Chimney frowned, maybe trying to remember where on a call could that have happened. Their eyes met and there was something there, something like worry if Buck ever dared to hope. But he didn’t dare hoping and Chim didn’t dare asking.

Like Eddie, Buck became more careful when he undressed around his colleagues.

* * *

Eventually, they reached out.

First it was Hen. She had been most welcoming when he’d first come back; but that, now, was something else.

He was chewing on a sandwich, bland and tasteless but still somewhat nutritional and that’s all he needed, right? He was no chef Bobby Nash but he’d read enough on the most basic food his body needed and that’s what he was giving it right now: the basics.

A bowl of salad slid on table closer to him.

He looked up, meeting Hen’s searching gaze. Another plate followed the bowl – a piece of pie. She sat across from him.

“You’ve lost weight”, she observed.

He shrugged a bit, looking away. “Too much bedrest. I’ve been hitting the gym more lately but it’d take some time to regain…”

“Buck, you barely eat.”

“I eat”, he shook his sandwich a little.

“I’m guessing you barely sleep as well”, she continued as if he hadn’t spoken.

“I sl-…”

“I’m not talking about the absolute minimum of all that, Buck.”

He frowned, trying to place her worry, to get where she was coming from. They were hardly friends… anymore. _“I fucked up. I know that. So what do you care?!”_ , he wanted to ask. He remained quiet, like usual these days.

“I hate that look in your eyes”, she said. “And I hate your silence. I know you went through a lot, _believe me_ I know. I _know_ , Buck. But I have to believe you can come back, that you will. Okay?”

_Because if you can then maybe I can too._

The incident with the ambulance and the faulty traffic lights resulting in the death of a young girl had hit her hard. Buck knew that. He wished there was something he could do to help her, wished he was someone who mattered enough to actually reach her.

He nodded numbly. He’d try. For her.

She nodded back.

“Good. Eat your salad and your pie”, she ordered before she stood up and left, squeezing his shoulder on her way out.

Maybe it was some weird motherly instinct to take care of lost boys like him. It wasn’t weird that Hen had such a motherly instinct, she _is_ a mother, but the way it was directed at… him?

Still. It had to be that.

* * *

But then it was Chimney. Buck, finally back on real duty, had been wrapping some gauze around a minor gash on his arm when there was a huff, a _tsk_! and Chimney knelt down in front of him as Buck sat on the hard bench in the changing room. Chimney made an impatient gesture and Buck held out his hand, expecting some cold and collected treatment.

Chimney’s hands were gentle. And so was his voice, in stark contrast with his harsh words.

“I can’t even look at you, sloppily dressing a wound like that. Did you even clean it up before wrapping the gauze?”

“Of course I….”, he started but Chimney had already begun cleaning the gash, again. He looked exasperated but his voice was soft and quiet as he spoke again.

“Do you still take your meds?”

“…It’s fine, Chim.”

“It’s not fine if you die of blood loss because of something stupid!”

His voice raised in volume but his fingers were still gentle as he bandaged Buck’s arm.

The blonde figured it was for Maddie’s sake and keeping her stupid baby bro out of trouble.

* * *

“So. Lunch with me and Athena? Friday, our place.”

Buck’s eyes widened and his whole body tensed. His stomach dropped and his hands began shaking a bit so he curled them into fists. Last time he’d been to Bobby and Athena’s place it hadn’t ended well. His whole life had turned upside down, for the n-th time in a very short time.

It seemed his silence, his body language and the quite literal fear emanating from him were like a slap to the face because that’s when Bobby got it. His own eyes widened a little and hurried to explain.

“Hey, hey, nothing like that, kid! You’re not fired, Buck, I promise. It’s just… been a while. If you’d like to, both me and Athena would love to have you around....”

A confused frown furrowed Buck’s brows, another silent ‘ _why’_. Bobby looked pained by it.

“We miss you, Buck. You’re not the only one who did things wrong and is sorry for it. I know I fucked up by trying to protect you in a completely wrong way but you’ve never been just a subordinate. Just… if you give me a chance…”

“What time?”, he interjected.

Bobby’s whole face lit up. His brow smoothed and the worry-lines that looked permanently etched there seemed to suddenly disappear.

Buck allowed himself a tiny hope.

He’d lie if he said he didn’t miss his mother and father figures too.

* * *

He and Eddie made up. Kind of. Something like it. They spoke and smiled and laughed together again. But there was something glaringly missing. Something was left unspoken.

Like an old memento that had been mended on the outside but still broken inside.

* * *

They reached the parking lot together and Eddie looked around for the familiar Jeep. He frowned when Buck stopped next to a shiny black Skyline and unlocked it.

“New car?”, he asked.

Buck shrugged. Eddie whistled.

“Well, congrats. You should have said something.”

Buck’s face was a cold mask when he looked at him and simply repeated just what Eddie had said all that time ago. “You weren’t there.”

There was no hate in his voice, no accusation. Just stating a fact.

Eddie stood there, rooted to the spot as Buck gracefully slipped behind the wheel of the distinctly sports car with practiced ease. He had places to be and things to forget.

* * *

He didn’t do it for the money; although that helped too, after he declined millions of dollars. That was the only reason some people turned to racing. Others did it for the attention, the women waiting at the finish line. But he was not _that guy_ anymore. And that was scarily close to a version of him he desperately wanted to forget.

 _That_ was his reason to be here. Speed helped clear the fog in his brain, made him focus on one thing only and that was the road ahead. It helped that it was something he could _control_ too, unlike natural disasters and crippling accidents. For those stolen moments the constant buzz in his head stopped, the hollow feeling in his chest dissipated. That’s all he wanted. That’s all he asked for.

* * *

Something was wrong.

Maybe not with him. Not his car. The road was clear, everything looked fine. Yet there was this nagging feeling, nudging him, trying to prepare him… for what?

He remembered a time, long ago when he and Eddie were still really close, actually close instead of just on the surface, when they joked around freely and Eddie had teased him about his ‘spidey feeling’. It was never particularly specific though. And the reason behind it now was just as unclear as always before.

The guy he was racing against swiveled badly, his car hitting Buck’s. They rolled around and crashed, twisting in a fucked up dance of metal and concrete. With the speed they were both going with they needed a miracle… to stay alive.

The other car turned on its roof, Buck’s slamming into it again. Thankfully it was the passenger’s side, so the driver still had a chance…

That was the last thing he thought before he lost consciousness.

* * *

The sick sound of twisting metal brought him back to awareness. He recognized that sound - hydraulic claws.

Fuck. It was that bad.

And then, because life hated him, Eddie’s worried face came into focus.

“Buck! I’m going to get you out of there but I need you to stay still, man!”

“The… other… guy”, Buck choked out, tasting blood in his mouth and that was never good but he tried to reason with himself that it was only a cut.

“He’s okay, Buck, just…”

“Diaz, the door!”, Bobby barked, his voice and the way he addressed Eddie betraying his own anxiety.

The metal gave, the door tossed aside like a cardboard piece of trash. The seatbelt was cut off. Two pairs of strong arms pulled him out, ever so careful. He was lowered on the ground, gently but urgently and the flash blinded him as Hen quickly checked his pupils.

“Definitely concussion but I want a full head scan once we reach the hospital. I’m worried about those ribs too. At least one might be broken and if it punctures a lung and he’s on blood thinners…”

His head turned to the side, his eyes locking on Chim, bent over the other guy. There was a cervical collar around his neck, the same as Hen was trying to put on him too, and Chim was just putting on a splint on the guy’s leg which made him scream out in pain, his breath wheezing out of him in a drawn-out sob…

…just like Buck’s, all those months ago, when the truck was crushing his leg and everything was a white-hot agony but instead of blacking out he was doomed to feel every single unbearably painful second of it and he couldn’t, he couldn’t…

…he couldn’t breathe, he was suffocating, drowning under the unbearable pressure…

“Buck, hey, hey, calm down now…!”, _Hen_.

“What’s happening?!”, _Eddie_.

“He’s having a panic attack and I can’t have him hyperventilating with a broken rib!”

“Buck! Hey, eyes on me, look at me! Buck! Breathe with me, cariño, come on! Buck…!”

* * *

He came to in a sterile white room and immediately felt sick by how familiar it had become. His eyes adjusted slowly, to the figure sitting in a hard plastic chair next to his bed, clutching his hand hard, eyes fixed on it instead of Buck’s face. It took another moment before Eddie’s words started to make sense and almost as soon as they did it was like a vice grip around his throat.

“…a given. You’ve always been so sunny and open, all smiles and positivity, never giving up and… and now it looks like you’ve given up, Buck. And I can’t take this. So please come back to us. Please come back to me.”

His breath caught is his throat, making a pitiful sound. A sob. It was a sob.

Eddie looked up, surprised, startled, and then worried, and then moving a hand to wipe off… the tears. God, it was so embarrassing. How much more embarrassing could this get?! He tried to hold off, to muffle his sobs, to fucking stop.

Eddie stood up from his chair and gathered him in his arms, holding tight.

“Let go. Come on, no more holding back. Let go and I will too. Talk to me and I’ll tell you everything.” 

Buck broke down and broke apart, hugging back and clutching on Eddie’s shirt, muffling his sobs in his shoulder while Eddie held him close and tight.

* * *

They talked.

Eddie told him about the street fighting.

Buck told him about the racing.

They agreed both were not healthy coping mechanisms.

They agreed they’d both find another way to deal and heal.

* * *

Therapy was a bitch. But after everything… it was an absolute must.

He was barely out of the hospital and still not back to active duty when Bobby pulled him aside and handed him two folders. The papers provided CVs, resumes and recommendations for two psychiatrists – Dr. Susan Jones and Dr. James Rosenberg. Buck read nothing but their names before he chose Dr. Rosenberg, if only because he was a man.

That… turned out to be another fucking trauma revealed on his very first session.

* * *

“So, Buck. Why do you think you’re here?”, Dr. Rosenberg asked.

He was a middle aged man with brown hair and kind eyes. He was soft spoken but knew just how much to push to actually achieve something.

“Because they _made_ me come. I want my job back and it’s mandatory”, Buck huffed.

The doctor said nothing, just stared right into his eyes; waiting for him to catch on or just finally fucking admit that,

“I… had an episode. In the car accident, the other guy was… his leg was badly broken and all I saw was myself under that firetruck and I swear I could still feel the same pain. And when I was hyperventilating, it felt like I was drowning in another tsunami.”

Rosenberg gave him another long, patient look before he cleared his throat and spoke up, his face serious as he cut to the chase.

“I’ll be very clear, Buck, as I’d like us to be with each other from now on. You pointed out just two of the most obvious problems we will get to work on. But let’s start from the beginning as you tell me why you actually chose me as your doctor.”

“Well, I’m sure Bobby did his research and….”

“Buck.”

“…the resume was very flattering…”

“ _Buck_ …”

“I slept with my last therapist.”

Silence echoed between the beige walls, the kind of awkward silence only a confession like that could cause. Yet, when Buck dared to look up Rosenberg didn’t look disgusted. Didn’t look like he was judging him. He didn’t even take notes. He just waited patiently, face calm and reassuring.

“She was… I was in a bad place, I was someone I just… I can no longer be. But back then I was a man-slut and I guess she didn’t fucking care. She saw an opportunity and she took it. The guy that I was back then didn’t have a problem with it”, he shrugged.

“But you do now. The guy that you are right now definitely has a problem with that”, the doctor said, not even a question. And yet Buck found himself nodding vigorously, his eyes blurry as he tried to focus.

“Yeah. I definitely have a problem with that.”

* * *

There was a long way to go.

Insecurity, trust issues, PTSD and issues with self-worth were just part of a long list of things they needed to work through. Dr. Rosenberg put on a reassuring smile and guided him right to it.

* * *

Eddie was probably the only one who really got him, what with going through therapy himself. He was always there for Buck, him and Chris often stopping by, sometimes with the excuse for needing another player in their video games tournaments, sometimes with no excuse at all. Those were the only times when Buck actually found himself truly smiling and even laughing.

It was one of those nights when Eddie cornered him in the kitchen and said,

“Move in with me.”

Buck choked on his own spit, coughing and turning a wide eyed look at his best friend. “Wh…-?”

“I know it’s sudden. I know we barely started… repairing this, us. Maybe it’s weird but… Buck, I can’t do this alone anymore”, he finished on a whisper, glassy eyes looking away as he added, “He wakes up from a nightmare almost every night, still. He’s almost always asking for you. And I’m tired of making up weak excuses for why I am once again not enough…”

“Hey, hey, no! You’re an amazing dad, Eds, and all the little guy could ask for…”

“And what about you?”, Eddie pushed. Buck frowned but before he asked Eddie prowled on, “Can I be enough for you too? Can I be a reason… for you to move in?”

“…You’re my best friend, Eddie. If you think I can help I’ll be right there next to you.”

He hoped he got that out right, hoped Eddie knew how sincere Buck was, hoped he knew that him and Chris and Maddie were his only real family out of the 118th. Judging by the slight wince Eddie almost immediately covered with a smile, Buck must have messed up something again, with his words. But he’d figure it out on the way.

* * *

“Why racing?”, Dr. Rosenberg (‘call me James’) asked one day.

Buck shrugged. “’Cause I’m good at it. There are very few things in my life I am so good at. It gave me a thrill… helped me forget my other problems…”

“First things first. What other things do you think you’re good at?”

“My job”, he answered immediately. “Sex, obviously, but I really didn’t want to go back there…”

“Sex is a natural thing, Buck. You know that, right? There is nothing wrong with it, itself.”

“I know that. With the right person. Or, you know, even just a few no-strings-attached flings, I don’t judge other people for that.”

“Just yourself”, Rosenberg pushed gently.

Buck huffed out a self-depreciating snort. “Mine weren’t just a few flings.”

The doc watched him carefully.

“Do you think the adrenaline provided by racing was meant to replace the serotonin released during sex?”, he asked.

Buck thought about it. Then he shook his head.

“No. It just helped me forget and focus on something else but my problems.”

“And what did sex replace, when you had your ‘phase’? What did you miss in your life?”

That gave Buck a real pause.

Huh. What indeed? His parents’ approval? Real, actual love he had eventually found with Abby? That had been enough to make him stop sleeping around.

Was racing the same? What had he been missing now? His family in the 118th? Eddie and Chris…

“I’ll give you some time to think about it”, James said with a small, kind smile. “I’m happy with where we got today. I feel like you realized that while having sex and driving a sports car is perfectly fine and normal, both sleeping around and illegal racing are not healthy coping mechanisms. And I’m proud that you’re on the right path to healing now. You should be proud too.”

* * *

They worked out a schedule pretty quickly: Eddie picked up Chris from school on Monday, Tuesday and Friday and Buck – on Wednesday and Thursday. Weekends were shared if they were both off duty, their time spent in Chris’ favorite park or whatever museum, zoo or aquarium Buck had in mind this time. If Eddie had it his way it would be a movie or a quiet walk on a faraway trail, easy enough for Chris but still less populated than the park.

Buck knew Chris’ teachers thought they were a thing, him and Eddie. He knew they always got a family discount when visiting any of the museums he chose. But like with that Christmas elf, all that time ago, he didn’t argue.

Didn’t mean he agreed. He just… didn’t deny.

* * *

“I’d like to schedule a meeting where your partner would be present too”, Dr. Rosenberg said with his calm tone, the one that always put Buck at ease. It actually took him a second to assimilate the words.

“Uh… partners as in…? B-because we work together and we’re partners on the field but not… romantically.”

Dr. Rosenberg gave him a long, searching look before he scribbled something in his notebook. Buck wondered if it was simply “denial” or something like “pathologically scared of commitment”.

“We’ll address that later”, he said serenely.

“No, let’s address it now, doc. Because I’m not romantically involved with my best friend!”

Rosenberg closed his notebook and set it aside.

“Buck. Even if you have not consumed your relationship in the physical way I believe you have grown up enough to know that it’s not all there is to it. You two living together, still, even after you’ve recovered physically just means that you need each other as an emotional support, usually shared between couples. And before you object that it’s something friends do too let me remind you how you basically raise a child together. If _that_ doesn’t ring a bell then we have far more serious issues to discuss.”

Buck’s silence was telling enough. Dr. Rosenberg steepled his fingers and looked at him with a curious, a bit calculating expression.

“Let’s address the real issue here, Buck. Is it Eddie being a man?”

“I’m not homophobic!”, the blonde frowned.

“I didn’t say you were”, Rosenberg frowned back. “Does being labeled as gay bother you?”

Buck snorted. “My own sister all but tried to hook me up with her colleague Josh.”

“Tried?”, the doc pushed.

Buck shrugged. “I’m not… against. Not repulsed by the idea or anything. We just… didn’t click. I mean he’s a good buddy…”

“Like Eddie.”

“Eddie’s not just _a_ buddy.”

“Then what is he?”

“My _best_ buddy?”, Buck frowned. “I’m sorry, where is this going?”

“When were you last on a date, Buck?”

“I told you, I don’t…”

“Not for sex. We’ll get there but that’s not what I’m asking. When did you last go out with someone, _who isn’t Eddie or Chris_?”

“Well I’m just not actively searching…”

“But if there’s an opportunity would you at least consider it as such?”

“Well, yeah…”

“Even if it’s a guy?”

“I mean, yeah…”

“Then why didn’t you even consider Josh?”

Buck’s frown had deepened.

“I’m… I just, I told you…”

“Because you are taken, Buck. You consider yourself taken, whether consciously or not. And taking that on the next, physical level will not ruin it. If anything… it might finally reassure you, both.”

“H-how do you even know if Eddie feels anything like this?”, Buck flailed.

Rosenberg sighed as if he prayed for strength.

“Buck. From what you’ve told me Eddie couldn’t fully forgive his own wife and let her back in his and Chris’ lives… but he did let _you_ , not just into his home but his heart too, way more easily than anyone else in this world. What does that tell you?”

“What are you telling me?”, Buck wheezed.

“Take your time. Think this through. When you do… talk to him. Establish what you are to each other. Set a foundation to build on. And…”, he smirked, “come back with your partner for your next session.”

* * *

When Buck got lost in his head it took him days, sometimes even weeks to shake it off. Thankfully he never spaced out on the field and if he was quieter in between calls and the others gave him worried looks that wasn’t a reason for a stern talk from his boss. So when Bobby pulled him aside and asked him if he was alright, pointedly as a friend and not a Captain, Buck knew he wasn’t in trouble this time.

“I’m… working on it”, Buck muttered.

Bobby looked… impressed. He nodded.

“Fair enough. As long as it doesn’t affect your job I will not suspend you. But if you need anything… you know where I am.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Bobby”, Buck’s smile was only a little strained before he turned to leave.

“Hey, kid”, Bobby called, making the blonde turn again. His Captain was smiling fondly. “You’ve grown up, son.”

Something twitched inside Buck, that needy little monster always waiting for praise and acknowledgement. His Captain’s words meant more than a single “thanks, Bobby” could ever cover.

* * *

“So? Are we gonna talk?”, Eddie asked that night as they had put Chris to sleep and were chilling on the couch with a couple of beers, Netflix all but a background noise in the otherwise quiet living room.

“Hm? What about?”, Buck frowned.

“You’ve been distracted lately. Distant”, Eddie observed.

Buck stayed quiet, sipping from his beer and buying himself more time.

“Are you gonna tell me why?”

Eddie’s gentle nudge was nothing like his harsh words months ago in that store. The way he was the one to encourage talking while usually being the one avoiding it was also not lost on Buck.

He took a deep breath. Now or never.

“It was just something James… Dr. Rosenberg said and now it wouldn’t leave my head.”

“Hm?”, Eddie hummed softly.

Buck sighed again. “When Maddie tried to hook me up with Josh… that didn’t disgust me.”

Eddie frowned. “Okay?”

“Does it disgust you?”

“Uh… the… theoretical option of you dating Josh, men in general or dating altogether?”, Eddie looked lost.

“Dating. Men”, Buck clarified.

Eddie looked at him as if he had suddenly lost his mind. “Buck”, he started, talking as if to a kid. “One of our best friends is gay. I am not disgusted by that.”

“Oh. I mean, no, not Hen but…”

“Buck, what’s going on here, really?”, Eddie crossed his arms and that was never a good sign (even if did make his muscles bulge).

“James, Dr. Rosenberg said that… that I don’t date, don’t even consider other people because I see myself already taken.” Buck gulped dryly, risking a glance at Eddie. His expression hadn’t changed, didn’t betray nothing at all. “By you”, he clarified when his previous statement didn’t invoke the reaction he was waiting for, or any action for that matter.

Eddie remained stoically stone-faced, just staring blankly at Buck.

The blonde fidgeted nervously.

“Eddie. I need to know. What are we doing? Where are we going with this? I know I fucked up. I know we can’t be the same as before. But where are we now, Eddie? What are we?”

That finally cracked the stony façade.

“No, we can’t be the same as before. How could we when we’re not the same people anymore? But, Buck, we can be better.”

When Buck risked another glance Eddie was smiling, a little exasperatedly.

“Seriously, Buck, did you miss all of my cues?”

“There were cues?”, Buck knew his eyes were wide but he couldn’t help it; he felt as if the ground had suddenly disappeared under him.

“I don’t know, were there… cariño?”, Eddie smirked and… fuck, were his eyes following Buck’s suddenly dry lips?

“I thought I’d imagined that…”

“Or the fact that we live together?”, Eddie continued.

“Like friends?”, Buck tried.

“You steal my clothes.”

“You do too!”

“And use my shampoo.”

“Hey, you used the last of my hair gel and didn’t even tell me!”

“You drive me crazy”, Eddie whispered, their lips suddenly inches apart. Buck’s eyes followed the way Eddie’s Adam apple bobbed when he swallowed. “I just thought you didn’t want it.”

“And if I do?”, Buck whispered. “If I want… more than you’re willing to offer?”

Eddie frowned. “Buck?”

“…I don’t want to go back to Buck 1.0”, the blonde admitted quietly.

Eddie didn’t immediately deny: nor the possibility as such, or Buck’s past. He just gave him a long, earnest look and asked,

“Am I just another hook-up for you?”

“What? No!”, Buck frowned.

Eddie lifted an eyebrow, a small, infuriatingly smug smirk crawling on his lips.

Buck knew when he was defeated. In the best possible way.

* * *

It wasn’t during or even immediately after their first night together that the confession came in a moment of reverence, made all the more meaningful _because_ it _wasn’t_ in the heat of the moment. It was in the quiet morning light, when Eddie opened his eyes and saw Buck already watching him.

“Good…”

“That wasn’t just sex last night, was it?”, Buck rushed.

Eddie frowned. “I told you it wasn’t.”

Buck tried to look away, to avoid his eyes but Eddie didn’t let him – he caught his chin gently, making the blonde meet his eyes.

“What brought this on?”, Eddie asked sleepily.

“Sex, it’s… different when you…”, Buck shrugged.

Eddie didn’t need him to finish. He wasn’t good with words either, especially those three little words. But it the quiet morning light and when it looked like Buck needed them so much, he could do it.

“Te amo, cariño.”

Buck shuddered in his arms. “But I’m so fucked up, Eds.”

Eddie’s hold tightened around him.

“That’s the thing, querido. We all are.”

The catch was to realize it and work on it. And they did.

* * *

When they walked in together for Buck’s next session with Dr. Rosenberg, James’ eyes widened slightly in an obviously pleased way. He steepled his fingers again and smiled proudly as he nodded.

“ _Very_ well.”

* * *

In retrospect, maybe it was a mistake to schedule his next appointment with James right before his shift. He felt drained already, ready to just go home and curl up with Chris and forget the world.

Sadly, the world needed him ready to save it again.

“Lunch is ready”, Bobby called from the door.

Buck looked up, sitting on the bench and tying his shoes.

There was no one else in the locker room. He met Bobby’s expectant eyes and nodded. “Okay.”

“It’s mandatory”, Bobby insisted.

There was something knowing in his eyes that told Buck his Captain had read him again like an open book. He probably knew about his meeting and how emotionally drained Buck was. He’d probably even prepared some kind of comfort food and was gently nudging Buck to come spend some time with the team. Buck sighed and dragged himself into the common area and the already set table.

A heaping dish of Alfredo chicken landed on front of him. And then a side of tamales. A strong hand squeezed his shoulder.

He stared at his favorite meals feeling his throat constrict painfully and tears prickling his eyes. He looked up.

They were all looking back. No judgment, no hard feelings.

It wasn’t all for Maddie’s sake.

It wasn’t just a weird motherly instinct.

It wasn’t just food or Bobby’s way to deal with almost anything.

It was his family’s quiet support.

“Are you back with us, Buckaroo?”, Hen smiled.

He smiled back, rusty but real. “I will be.”


End file.
